


Open Waters

by KeikoAkai



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alchemy of Thiefshipping, Citronshipping, Cute, Drama, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implications of smut, Kittens, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Series, Thiefshipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 15:03:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16557992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeikoAkai/pseuds/KeikoAkai
Summary: A repeated image, concrete inside of Malik Ishtar’s mind. The vast expanse of ocean; murky turquoise waters surrounding a rickety raft. There was no sound save for the ebb and pull of the waves licking against the palm wood.It was terrifying.-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Malik and Bakura are at odds on starting a family of their own. When a kitten is found on their doorstep, they take her in and Malik is forced to reexamine his position on the matter.Post-canon.





	Open Waters

**Author's Note:**

> Art Credit to [ninjam117](http://ninjam117.tumblr.com/). Please support their work through their [various](https://ko-fi.com/ninjam) [merchandise](https://www.redbubble.com/people/ninjam117?asc=u), and [DeviantArt](https://www.deviantart.com/ninjam117) !
> 
> Thanks to [ariasune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariasune/pseuds/Ariasune) for helping me with the title and for letting me bounce a few ideas off of them!

 

A repeated image, concrete inside of Malik Ishtar’s mind. The vast expanse of ocean; murky turquoise waters surrounding a rickety raft. There was no sound save for the ebb and pull of the waves licking against the palm wood.

It was terrifying.

Too much water. Too much solitude.

Then the raft would give way. Splinters cracked into the wood like growing weaves of a spider’s web. An infant’s cry pierced sharply into his ear before the waters would engulf Malik whole. Water in his mouth, his lungs, his blood. Malik couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe—!

* * *

It was an unpleasant dream that Malik caught himself having again and again in recent weeks. Ever since _that_ conversation, all he felt in his dreams was the sensation of drowning.  

Bakura wanted a family, a family that Malik couldn’t provide. The realization that Malik could no longer make Bakura happy by his company alone was a heavy one. It felt like weights of stone chained to his ankles. Drowning in water.

What solution could he offer Bakura to make him want a child less? What compromise could he provide? Malik knew deep down that there was none. There was no replacement for a family and he knew that better than most.

“Mm, Mal—” a familiar tenor voice rumbled softly into Malik’s ear. “—Malik...”

Malik was pulled from his thoughts and forced into the warmer present. There was a shifting on the bed and firm arms reached around his nude torso, holding him steady over his internal turbulence.

He smiled, a soft thin line curved on his face. He impulsively leaned back against Bakura’s toned, sturdy chest. Amongst the many reasons why Malik loved the body Bakura returned in, the muscular build felt like home. Warm, familiar, sand drifting over the Sahara, the warm sun on his skin. Even with the cold weather in Japan, laying in Bakura’s arms was everything he loved and missed about Egypt.

“Having sexy dreams about me again?” Malik teased, his voice hushed and groggy from sleep. He gave a quiet chuckle. “Wonder if ice was involved this time…?”

Bakura lowered his mouth down to Malik’s shoulder. Gentle kisses breathed into Malik’s skin like an afterword to a pleasant thought. His body curled against Malik, hips pressed against the young man’s backside. “And if I did…?” Bakura asked, confirming that he was at least conscious.

Malik could practically hear the smirk in his partner’s voice and exhaled a short burst of air through his nose. He twisted within Bakura’s hold with the agility of a snake in order to rest on his back. He stared up at Bakura’s piercing red-violet eyes. The dark shade was murky with sleep, but still sharp enough to show his amusement.

“Did it involve ice?” Malik prodded, repeating his second question. This time, the tone was less teasing and more forward. His voice dropped into a luxurious purr. His eyelids became hooded over his lavender gaze and his lips curved into a smirk.

Bakura stared down at Malik like he was a second away from rolling his eyes. “No, but…” His sentence trailed off as he adjusted the position of his body. He eventually settled overtop of Malik, his hands trapping his partner’s head between them and his hips straddling an equally naked pair. A rather devious grin carved across the older man’s face before he continued talking. “I _did_ dream about you screaming my name…”

A single shiver tingled down Malik’s spine and he couldn’t help but smirk in reaction to Bakura’s words. “Oh…?” He was coy now, his voice sweet as honey and his eyes half-lidded. “Got what it takes, Thief King?” It was a title, ancient on his tongue but tasted of red fire. The words slipped out with a twinge of awe and Malik had all the audacity and arrogance to use it to taunt.

The Thief King in question chuckled low in his throat before drawing his lips close to Malik’s mouth. He whispered as if it were a forbidden secret between them. “What type of king would I be if I couldn’t take care of my greatest treasure?”

Malik was entirely caught off guard by the mushy comment. He could feel heat rise to his face, feeling minor annoyance by actually being affected by it. Though, more than anything else, what he mostly felt was second-hand embarrassment. “That…” He paused to find an accurate phrase. “…was so gay.” The delivery was dead-pan and Malik gave a rather flat glance up at Bakura’s face.

A long silence passed through them, screaming more loudly than their quiet breaths. Malik and Bakura locked eyes before abruptly tearing through the silence with loud, boisterous laughter.

However, through Malik’s amusement, he had devised a counterattack. As he quelled his laugh, he arched his hips up hard, brushing their groins together. He held his breath and waited.

Not even a second later, Bakura choked on a laugh before a tremor visibly sewed into his flesh and a ragged moan tore itself from his throat. This was the moment that Malik was waiting for. While Bakura reeled from the intense pleasure, Malik roughly threw their weight to the side. Their positions were switched and now he was on top.

Malik grinned down triumphantly at his partner and taunted, “What was that about making me scream…?”

Bakura looked disoriented as if he were trying to figure out how exactly Malik took control of the situation. A glare quickly followed suit, but it lacked any venom of true anger. “You dick!” he growled even as his hands moved to grasp at Malik’s hips. Nails dug into the skin like claws, forming sharp crescent indents. The grab managed to pull a low groan from Malik.

“Well?” Bakura pried, resigning himself to his fate without added fuss. “You gonna sit there all day or are you gonna make me scream _your_ name?”  
  
Malik snickered. “You’re such a needy bitch…” he teased before bending down and claiming Bakura’s lips with his own. It was sucking in a heavy drag from a cigarette, a flame that blazed passionately as their bodies intertwined.

Soon, low curses and heavy moans filled the room as Malik’s mouth slowly crept lower…

* * *

 

It was well into the afternoon when the couple decided to leave their bedroom. Malik and Bakura sat on the couch, huddled under a throw blanket and watching television. Two plates and empty mugs sat unattended on the coffee table. Bakura’s plate was completely barren save from a few crumbs of egg. Malik still had a half-eaten piece of toast lingering on his.

“Fuck, it’s so cold…!” Malik whined, the words elongated childishly for dramatic effect. He pressed himself closer to Bakura’s body with the urgency of a man who was freezing into ice with each passing second.

Bakura snorted loudly, clearly amused by Malik’s suffering. Malik never handled Japan’s fall and winter seasons well. It didn’t matter how many years had passed since they started living in this country. He still clung impossibly close to Bakura, dressed in way too many layers while bitching about the need for them, avoided the outdoors, and soaked in hot baths for nearly an hour at a time.   

“The heater’s on, you know?” Bakura pointed out, gesturing to the thermostat on the wall behind their couch with his thumb.

“So?” Malik said with a huff as if it were a plausible defense for any argument. “Still freezing!” He made a show of shivering and nuzzling Bakura’s neck. “I swear,” he grumbled, muffling his words against his partner’s skin. “I’d turn it to 27° in here if you wouldn’t bitch about it.”

“It’s not even cold enough to snow yet!” Bakura argued even as he combed his fingers through Malik’s hair. It was clear that despite Bakura’s protests, he still very much enjoyed keeping his boyfriend close. “Also, it’s not my fault that you decided to wear a tank-top.”

It was true. Malik was sporting a black tank-top and gray sweatpants. Though, Bakura was not one to talk. Bakura only wore a semi-presentable outfit—a dark blue long-sleeved shirt and plain boxer shorts. If Bakura could avoid wearing pants, he would.

Outside, the dull pitter-patter of rain had increased in ferocity. Light drops that thudded against the roof now hammered against it, easily drowning out the talking from the characters on the show they were barely watching.

Malik opened his mouth to say something else, but snapped it shut when a jarring sound caught his attention. It was a sharp noise, like scratching against a floor and it was distinct from the rain. He pulled his face away from Bakura’s neck and turned to face the TV. The volume wasn’t too high but he still reached for the remote to mute it.

“Malik?” Bakura raised an eyebrow. “Why did you—?”

The sounds came again after a brief lull of silence.

_Scratch. Scratch. Scratch._

_Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch._

“Do you hear that?” Malik asked in a whisper.

The scratching was closer and clearly not from the television. They came in quick succession and screamed frantic to Malik’s ears.

Bakura furrowed his eyebrows and pulled away from his boyfriend. He pushed the blanket off of himself and got to his feet. “Sounds like it’s coming from the front door—”

Malik followed suit, pushing to his own feet and following Bakura to the door. As they drew closer, Malik realized that despite the consistent frequency of the noise, the pressure against the wood was light. An adult wasn’t capable of making the scratches with their bare hands. Furthermore, the sounds were coming from the lower half of the door. Whatever was scratching at the wood did not stand high off of the ground.

Then, another noise was added to the racket. It was quiet and high-pitched, sounding suspiciously like a wail.

“Wait—is that…?” Bakura started before pulling open the door. Both men stared directly across from them, watching the rain hitting the sidewalk with noticeably no one standing at their doorstep.

The crying was heard again and Malik craned his head down only to spot a small bundle of wet fur at his feet. He knelt down to get a closer look, his gaze warming up when he noticed the tiny pointed ears twitching on the top of its head. “A kitten…!” he gasped in hushed awe.

Bakura had since followed Malik’s gaze to the ground and smiled. “Yeah, I can see that, Malik.” His shoulders had tensed during the reveal and he quickly took to leaning against the door frame.

 

Malik gingerly reached out his hand and the kitten took to it, bumping his fingers with its icy pink nose. He nearly drew his hand back by how strikingly cold it felt. The kitten then nudged the top of its head against his hand as if to silently ask for a pet. Of course, Malik did oblige, but as he shifted through its fur, he frowned. “….The fur’s soaked from the rain,” he told Bakura. “It’s shivering really bad…”

The kitten mewed and continued nuzzling Malik’s hand. “What should we do…?” he asked, turning his head to look up at Bakura.

Bakura sighed and pulled the door further open. “Well, c’mon then,” he beckoned, stepping backwards into the entryway to give them more room. “You wanna help her, right?”

Malik raised an eyebrow. How did Bakura know it was a “her”? It was a thought he quickly put to the back of his mind as he carefully plucked the kitten from their doorstep and brought it inside. He glanced down at the bundle in his arms and felt the kitten burrowing against his shirt for warmth.

“Okay so… we need to get it warm,” Malik announced with a determined nod.  

“I’ll go get some towels,” Bakura replied after shutting the front door. He disappeared down the hallway to rummage through the linen closet.

The kitten’s fur dripped water over Malik’s arms and down onto the carpet. The color of the coat was dyed a light gray under the weight of the rainwater.

Malik waited in the living room, still cradling the kitten against him and hearing it quietly mew. He idly wondered how old the kitten was. Did it have an owner? Was it a stray? Was it abandoned? This was honestly the first time he had ever held a cat in his life. It was a marvel how soft the fur felt despite how soaked it was.

Moments later, Bakura returned with a small blue crate filled with multiple towels bunched up inside. He set it on the floor and sunk to his knees. “Put her in here.” He gave a nod as if to convince himself. “Should be warm enough.”

Malik trusted his partner’s judgement and carefully knelt down to deposit the kitten into the nest of bathroom towels. He gingerly wrapped an edge of a towel around its midsection that was still shivering. “I wonder how long it was left out in the rain…?” he pondered out loud as he idly stroked over the kitten’s head with his thumb.

“Who knows…?” Bakura huffed with a shrug. “Maybe she got lost or ran away from home?”

Finally, Malik looked up at his partner’s face. “How do you know it’s a she?”

“A hunch?” Bakura supplied. “I don’t see balls on it.”

Malik leveled his partner a flat look. “Would they really be that noticeable on a kitten?” When did Bakura even get the chance to stare in that area?

“If it has nipples on its belly, it’s a girl,” Bakura added. “I at least know that…” There were no shortage of cats roaming around Egypt. Cats were sacred when the lands were ruled by the Pharaohs and Gods. It was fair to assume Bakura had played with some strays as a child before his world became a blazing inferno.

Curiosity got the better of Malik and he shifted two fingers underneath of the kitten. Sure enough, he felt distinct little nubs poking against his skin. The kitten’s impulsive response was to kick at his hand with her hind legs. “H-hey…!” he exclaimed, drawing back with a small laugh. Her claws grazed him, but they were not sharp enough to hurt. “Guess you don’t like being touched there, huh?” It at least confirmed Bakura’s biological sex theory.

Though, even as he said that, the kitten rolled onto her back and stared up at both men with an unblinking gaze. It was then that Malik finally took notice of her peculiar eyes. “Hey, look at that!” he exclaimed with childlike giddiness. “Her eyes are two different colors!”  

Bakura smirked, his expression seeming to melt into something fond as he watched his boyfriend’s excitement. “It took you that long to notice?”

Malik’s lips pursed into a thin line. “I wasn’t really focused on her face that much while she was crying,” he huffed defensively. He continued watching the kitten burrow under the towels. She had since returned to laying on her belly and pawed her way under another layer like unraveling a cocoon.

Her eyes were striking. It was obvious heterochromia, with the left eye a shimmering pale gold while the right eye was an even paler shade of sky blue. They stood out very vividly against her plain coat of fur. As Malik closely examined more of her tiny body, he noticed that other than occasional spots of dirt, her fur was becoming as white as Bakura’s hair as it dried.

Unable to help himself, Malik blurted out, “She kinda looks like you.”

“Like me?” Bakura echoed with a raised eyebrow. He waited for Malik to move his hand away before reaching down to pet her head. “Because of my hair?” He sneered over at his partner. “I hope that’s a compliment…”

“I mean, she is really pretty…” Malik trailed off as a small smile curled across his lips. “And you’re always pretty.”

The kitten gave another mew and stared up at Malik. She dug herself out from under the towel fortress and crawled overtop of the material to nuzzle the hand that was hanging out over the edge of the crate. The smile widened on Malik’s face and he began petting her head again.

Bakura saw this interaction and gave an animated groan before flopping onto his back like he was just shot through the chest. “Fuck…!” he whined dramatically. “It’s bad enough that I have to share you with your death machines, but now the cat…?”

Malik rolled his eyes at Bakura’s theatrics before breaking into a fit of snickers. “C’mon! I know you like her too!” After quickly settling down, he rubbed a thumb over the back of a thin pink-tinged ear. “Do you think she has an owner?” he asked more seriously. The small ear twitched back against his touch.

Bakura gave a shrug. “Maybe?” It wasn’t like either of them paid attention to lost pet signs posted on their street. “She doesn’t have a collar though,” he added before sitting up in a crossed-legged position.  

“Well, if no one claims her…” Malik trailed off. “Maybe we could keep her?” His voice became hushed as he waited for Bakura’s reaction. For some reason he couldn’t explain, he felt his nerves spike as they sat in silence.

He was reminded of his far-off dream of drowning. Would he fall through? He could practically feel the palm wood splintering beneath him.

Bakura was quiet for a while. Almost an entire minute had passed before he reached out to place his hand over the opposite side of the crate. “She grows on you, doesn’t she?” he murmured in an equally soft voice. “Maybe she’s an orphan…” Orphans like him and Malik were.  
  
Malik gave a nod of his head, saying nothing more as his gut churned uneasily. If the cat was abandoned or orphaned, wasn’t it even more of a reason to take her in?

“Heh.” Bakura reached down to place the blanket around the kitten’s midsection. His touch was delicate, almost insultingly so, coming from a thief. “It’s kinda like adopting a kid…”

There it was.

The realization slammed into him hard like a punch to the gut. Malik was on edge because he felt selfish. How could asking to have a pet _not_ be selfish when Bakura wanted a child that Malik couldn’t provide? Malik had been on edge around infants and children since he turned thirteen. Even after Malik assured his partner that his siblings were also family, he knew it wasn’t enough. The kitten under his hand, as cute as she was, wasn’t enough either.

Malik was subconsciously trying to offer a compromise that didn’t exist. His chest clenched painfully and the splintering wood in his mind formed a gaping hole in the raft. He was slowly sinking into the ocean.

He swallowed hard around what felt like glass in his throat. “I’m sorry…” he murmured, bowing his head. His pale blond fringe concealed his eyes and his hand stilled over the kitten’s body, earning him a soft mew in protest. “That was a dick thing to ask.”

Bakura let out a loud huff and crawled over to Malik’s side. He wrapped an arm around his partner’s midsection and leaned his head on the younger man’s shoulder. “No, it’s not,” he assured Malik. There was a brief pause before he added, “Let’s keep her.”

Malik turned his head to look at Bakura with wide eyes. “R-really…?” he gasped.

Bakura gave a nod and leaned forward to give his boyfriend a brief kiss. “She already likes it in here,” he pointed out. “If no one is looking around for her then I don’t see a reason to kick her out.”

It was as if Bakura suddenly offered Malik a sturdy hand to keep his head above water. Malik sucked in a deep breath, filling his lungs with air before kissing Bakura earnestly. He drew back after a lick of fire and leaned their foreheads together with a smile. “I love you,” he whispered, the words a prayer between them.

“I love—” Bakura’s words were interrupted with the sound of insistent pawing against the plastic crate. He glanced down at the kitten who stared up at them and meowed. “…Maybe we should think about what we’re gonna need to take care of her?” He pursed his lips and drew back from Malik. “You think Isis or Radish would--?”

Malik snorted, a curt, rude sound in the room. “— _Rishid_ —” he cut in before giving a shrug. After living together for five years, Bakura not saying Rishid’s name correctly was more intentional than him being forgetful. The asshole. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask…” he added. He didn’t know his siblings to keep pets so he was fairly sure they wouldn’t be as much help either.

He looked down at the kitten and reluctantly pushed himself to his feet. “I bet she’s hungry.” He nodded towards the kitchen. “I think I have some leftover fish from last night… she might eat that.”

“Worth a try,” Bakura replied. He opted to stay on the floor and continued giving the kitten his attention.

Malik returned a few minutes later with a teacup saucer and placed it on the carpet. It had a few flakes of salmon on the plate. He waited for Bakura to take the kitten out of the crate and nudged the saucer forward with his hand.  
  
The kitten approached the fish cautiously. She walked in a circle around the saucer before dipping her head and poking at the food with her nose. She stuck out her tiny pink tongue and licked at the salmon before turning her head away and wobbling over to Malik’s legs.

“…Maybe she’s not hungry yet?” Malik suggested with a raised eyebrow. He went to grab the phone he left on the bedside table before sinking down to sit by his partner.

“Or she doesn’t like the food…” Bakura guessed.

Malik reached down his free hand to pet the kitten as she attempted to climb into his lap. After a gentle nudge from his hand, she managed the feat and settled her body onto his legs. She resembled a tiny loaf of bread with how her tail and legs were tucked in underneath of her.

“...Pretty sure you’re the mom now,” Bakura snorted before letting out a quiet snicker.

Malik felt the heat rise to his face when he heard that. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he demanded sharply, glaring at Bakura. He had no clue why he suddenly felt so defensive.

The reaction only caused Bakura to giggle to the point of almost falling over. “She’s so attached to you already!”

“So?” Malik huffed loudly. “That doesn’t mean I’m her _mom_!” He tried not to move too much in order to prevent jostling the bundle in his lap, which only seemed to further prove Bakura’s argument.

Bakura grinned like a fiend before leaning forward with lidded eyes. “If it makes you feel any better, you’re still _my_ sugar daddy~” he purred, his voice smooth as silk.

Malik narrowed his eyes. “Shut up, asshole,” he growled. He chose to ignore the laughter that followed and pulled up his phone to search through his contacts list. Finally finding his brother’s name, he pressed “call” and waited for the other end to pick up. 

“ _Habibi_ …?”  A deep, warm voice sounded from the other end, greeting with Arabic.

Malik’s expression softened as it usually did when he spoke with his brother. “Hey, Rishid,” he replied in Japanese. “Sorry I haven’t called in a while.”

“Have you been well?” Rishid pressed softly, switching to Japanese. Rishid didn’t bother with acknowledging the apology. Often times, the forgiveness was given in comforting silence.

“Yeah, we’ve been good,” Malik supplied with a smile. “Bakura’s an asshole like he usually is, but that’s nothing new.”

“Tell Baldy I said hi!” Bakura exclaimed loud enough for Rishid to hear.

Malik shot Bakura a mild glare before continuing. “…I actually wanted to ask you about cats,” he added, tilting his head down to look at the kitten attempting to sleep in his lap. “Do you know anything about how to take care of them?”

Rishid went quiet for a moment. “Cats?” he echoed. “Why do you ask?” There was pointedly no reaction given to Bakura's outburst.

“Bakura and I found a kitten in the rain,” Malik explained as his free hand reached down to gently pet over the drying fur. “I tried to give her fish but she won’t eat it.”

“Do you know her age?” There was a pause. “How big is she?”

Malik removed his hand from the kitten and held out his forearm along the length of her body. “…Barely longer than the size of my hand… a little past my wrist…” he answered slowly, carefully pronouncing each word. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“She may be too small to handle solid food.”

“Oh!” the younger man exclaimed. He wanted to smack himself on the forehead for not thinking about that sooner. Then again, it wasn’t like Malik had ever cared about looking into what it took to raise a baby. He supposed kittens and babies would have some things in common. He frowned a little and glanced down at the sleeping animal. “What do I give her then?”

“If her mother isn’t an option, then you’d have to get her kitten milk from a pet store,” Rishid explained. “You’ll most likely have to nurse her yourself.”

Malik nearly groaned. They had practically plucked in a baby off of the street. This made providing proper care much harder. He gave a nod and made a mental note of Rishid’s words. “…How do you know so much about cats?” he asked finally.

“Strays have been coming to the house for a while now,” Rishid answered, his voice soft like he was trying not to disturb a sleeping child. “I learned how to care for them while Isis is gone at work.”

Malik smiled, matching the sound of his brother’s voice with the expression on his face. Now that he thought about it, it really did make a lot of sense for his brother to find such a hobby. “I see.”

Soon after, Rishid had given Malik more detailed instructions on how to care for a kitten and Bakura had been forced to take notes on a piece of paper. After thanking his brother, Malik hung up the phone and carefully placed the kitten back into the towel fortress. He pushed himself to his feet. “You wanna go to the store or do you want me…?” he pressed, his sentence trailing off as he glanced down at his partner.

Bakura looked down at the kitten who was now moving in circles in the crate. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on her,” he murmured quietly. “Someone needs to.”

Malik was tempted to call out Bakura for being lazy, but stopped himself short when he noticed the expression his partner wore. There was a rare innocence that glimmered in his eyes. Malik could barely remember the last time Bakura had ever looked at him with such earnest warmth. It made his heart flutter.

For once, Bakura didn’t have to bribe Malik to walk into the cold rain. Malik was perfectly happy going out on his own. 

* * *

“Asskicker.”

“No.”

“Bastet?”

Malik groaned, turning on his side to face Bakura in their bed. “How the hell did you go from Asskicker to the Goddess of Cats?” He was exhausted from all of the errands he had to run earlier in the day. The house was now sufficiently stocked with essential kitten care products and all he wanted to do now was rest.

Bakura laughed noisily before nuzzling Malik’s neck affectionately. “It’s better than, what was yours--?” He briefly hummed to himself, “—Amaya-chan?”

“I never added ‘–chan’ to that name,” Malik replied with a wrinkle of his nose. “And it means ‘night rain’ so I don’t see what the issue is.”

“I don’t think it fits,” Bakura said simply like his opinion alone explained everything.

“And Asskicker _does_?”

Bakura grinned. “Look at her!” He lifted his hand from Malik’s waist to finger-gun at the kitten who was currently sleeping in the middle of an extra pillow on their bed. “She’s gonna be a badass cat.” He snickered. “Maybe I can teach her how to steal shit for us.”

Malik just squinted at Bakura like he had just sprouted two heads. “Fuck me—” he moaned, baffled by his partner’s logic.

Bakura cackled loudly like a hyena, prompting Malik to thump him lightly on the chest.

“Asshole! You’ll wake her!” Malik hissed. He looked up at the kitten to make sure she was still asleep. By some miracle, she was.

Bakura quieted himself and snickered against his boyfriend’s neck. “…Told you, you’re the mom.”

“Shut up—” Malik snorted even as he raised a hand to stroke his fingers through Bakura’s hair.

The older man went silent and settled closer to Malik’s body. Malik could practically feel the frown indenting on his skin before Bakura drew back to look up at his face. “Malik…” There was pain etched deeply in Bakura’s eyes and a heaviness that leaked into his voice. “You’d make… a great father.”

Malik’s eyes went wide, feeling as if Bakura had just plunged a knife through his chest. “What…?” It was the only word he could manage to get out of his mouth. His stomach churned sharply like someone was wringing a rag dry. He swallowed hard and tried to speak again. “…Wh-what… what makes you say that?”

He was drawn to the ocean again. The hand that Bakura had reached out to him was beginning to strain. The grip was slipping over his fingers.

“I can’t think of anyone who loves harder than you do.” It was a matter-of-fact statement, said with surefire conviction. “When you set out to protect or take care of someone, you put everything into it.”

Malik frowned. “Bakura—you know I can’t—” he tried, feeling like he was talking around a mouthful of sand. “I’m sorry, I know how much you—”

Bakura shook his head, flashing Malik a thin smirk. It must have tasted as bitter as it appeared. “I know, Malik…” he assured his partner. “And I’m accepting of that.” He placed gentle kisses along Malik’s neck. “I just think you’re wrong.”

Malik furrowed his eyebrows, sucking in a deep breath to keep his head above water. He didn’t want to drown again. “About what…?”

“You think you’d be a terrible father,” Bakura murmured. “You wouldn’t be. I know it.”

The younger man opened his mouth, preparing to protest when he heard a soft mew against his ear. He turned his head, unable to help but smile when the kitten nuzzled his cheek and purred. “Goddammit…” he groaned, his voice stretching into a whine. “Stop being so damn cute.”

Bakura chuckled. “I don’t think she’s capable of turning that off.”

Malik sucked in a deep breath and let it out. He came back from the precipice of a panic attack and reached out a hand to gently pet the kitten’s head to give his thanks.

Maybe Bakura was right? Maybe he _was_ capable of being a good father someday? He just wasn’t ready yet. His shoulders felt lighter at the possibility. Right now, he could focus on what mattered. His siblings. Bakura. And now… their new pet cat.

Bakura kissed Malik’s jawline and softly prodded, “ _Mau_.”

Malik blinked. He blinked again. He knew it was Egyptian for “cat,” but why was—? He wrinkled his nose when he figured it out. “No, we’re not naming our cat ‘cat,’ you dick,” he scoffed.

Bakura snorted before kissing Malik briefly on the mouth. “Keep it as a backup name then,” he half-joked before closing his eyes. “Night, babe.”

“Not even—” Malik protested, but cut himself short when Bakura appeared to be dozing off. He beamed and leaned over to kiss his partner’s forehead. “Night.” There would be plenty of time to decide on a name later. He fell asleep to the sound of Bakura’s even breathing and their kitten’s soft purrs.

* * *

That night, Malik had a new dream.

He was being dragged out of the waters by a sturdy hand and set back onto a mended raft. The old palm wood had been replaced with new boards and tied together with firm rope. He looked to his side and noticed that Bakura was sitting down on the front edge of the raft.

Being careful not to topple the structure with his weight, Malik slowly made his way over to his partner and sat down beside him.

Bakura turned to look at him, saying nothing. Instead, he handed Malik a rowing paddle.

Malik glanced down at the paddle before instinctively knowing what to do with it. He dipped it into the uneven waters and began pushing their raft forward. Each stroke fought against the waves and Malik continued in the same direction.

With Bakura by his side, Malik felt brave enough to explore these open waters.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: A few notes I wanted to make. When Malik mentions 27 degrees, he means in Celsius and not Fahrenheit since Japan uses the Metric System. Also, when Bakura refers to Malik's "death machines," he is talking about Malik's motorbikes.
> 
> I haven't written a fanfic in nearly a decade and I'm really glad I was able to work one out through this Alchemy of Thiefshipping Project! I had a lot of fun writing this fic and I had great support behind me. Thanks to everyone who helped me get here! I've been writing and role-playing for years and am glad to finally get back into my own solo work! This will be my first fic on this site!
> 
> In case people are wondering, yes, "Mau" will eventually become their kitten’s name because they spent way too long arguing over what name to give her and after a while, she only answered to “Mau.”


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